Le Premier Semaine à Kadic
by Fudge 1
Summary: Seven days, three students, one school. When the Loner, Geek, and Soccer Prodigy team up, what hope has anyone else got?
1. 1: Yumi I

**Summary: **Yumi Ishiyama is preparing herself for another terrible year at Kadic; a year where she will endure boring lessons, lonely lunchtimes and constant ambush from chavs. Ulrich Stern isn't exactly keen on the place either; he still doesn't understand why he couldn't just stay in Germany. Jérémie Belpois is hoping for a place without constant bullying or ridicule; or, at least, a faster internet connection. So what will all of them make of Kadic, a new school year, and each other?

**Disclaimer: **No, I don't own _Code Lyoko_. That is the privilege of Antefilms. It would be nice if I did, though.

**Author's Note: **This is my first _CL_ fic. I'm sorry if there are any inaccuracies, but I'm just going on the information I've gathered so far. By no means should you take this as actually being what happened when Yumi, Ulrich, and Jérémie met. It's my idea, nothing more. And I can already hear you asking 'Where's Odd?' Well, on the premier episode, _Garage Kids_, it shows Odd arriving at Kadic when Yumi, Ulrich, and Jérémie are already friends. So I'm just following what is said there. Oh, and there is the little matter of language: at the moment of writing, I have never seen an English episode of _Code Lyoko_. I've only ever seen _Cod Lyoko_, which is Welsh. So, obviously, all the characters speak Welsh and don't have the same voices as in the English one. When I describe the voices, I'm describing the Welsh ones. And I'm a Brit. I speak British English. After reading a few of the _CL _fics (excellent ones, too), I've gathered that most fans of the show are American. I've tried to Americanise myself as best I can, so I do say 'soccer' instead of 'football' at most points in the story, but it is written in English (U.K.). I DRAW THE LINE AT SAYING 'MATH'. IT'S MATH_S_, PEOPLE!

**Sex: **N/A

**Language: **Some, mild

**Violence: **Not sure if you'd really call it violence… but maybe, some, mild

**Other: **N/A

Oh, and I'd like to apologise to any chavs who read the story and find my description of chavs offensive. Yes, I do realise there are nice chavs out there. I'm not being prejudiced; I'm just writing from my experiences.

**La Premier Semaine à Kadic**

by Fudge 1

_Yumi I. _

Morning has never been my favourite time of day. I do not DO morning. I'm a creature of the night and sunlight poking through the gaps in the curtains isn't exactly my idea of a good time. However, contrary to all my complaining, morning still comes every day.

I know that there are people out there who like mornings because they're the beginning of the day and you don't know what's in store, but my life pretty much follows the same pattern: wake up, go to school, eat lunch, come home, do homework, watch TV. Oh, and sometimes I read my Manga comics. That's about IT, though.

I know that today is the first day of the new school year but that isn't really a reason for me to jump around like I'm actually happy. The new school year looks as if it's going to be pretty much the same as last year, unless there's something weird going on and I wind up in the wrong universe. (Ha, just had an image of me as Storm from _X-Men_… now that _would _be fun…)

Yawning and persuading myself that I do not control the weather I drag myself out of bed and into the bathroom. Halfway along the corridor I realise I've forgotten to turn my alarm clock off. Drag myself back to switch off the infernal beeping, head to the bathroom, and begin my day.

Still looking kind of sleepy (but now with hair that does at least marginally obey the laws of physics) I head downstairs.

My Dad looks up at me. 'Yumi,' he sighs, 'are you really going to wear that to school?'

What's wrong with it? When you think about it I could be wearing MUCH worse. Okay, so my shirt does show my navel, but at least the rest of me is pretty much covered; compared to the girls at Kadic, I am DECENT.

I tell my father this and he tries not to smile.

'I mean the _colour_, Yumi,' he says. 'Black doesn't make a very good impression now, does it?'

I shrug and grab a banana. I like black. It's expressionless and matches my hair. Besides, I think everyone's happier with me in black than, say, pink. Black has dignity.

'Excited about going back to school?'

I shrug and concentrate on the fruit.

'Won't it be nice to see all of your friends again?'

I try not to sigh. I love my parents, I really do, but sometimes I wish they didn't have such… rose-coloured images of me. Do you understand? No, you probably don't. Okay. I'll explain.

The official term for me at school is 'loner', but I prefer 'misfit', 'outcast', or, if I'm really in a bad mood, 'school bitch'. I just don't socialise. I tried, in the first few weeks, but everyone I met just jarred on my nerves. The girls were too busy talking about make-up and the boys were too engrossed in beating each other up. I didn't _fit_, like a piece from the wrong jigsaw. I wasn't exactly Miss Popular at primary school, but at least I had _some _friends who I could talk to and joke with in lessons. At Kadic Junior High? I'm lucky if I can find a partner.

Not that I've told my parents that. It hurts not telling them the truth, but it'd hurt even more if they looked at me with pity.

Oh, now don't go feeling sorry for me. Just _don't_. I don't mind eating lunch on my own; I've grown used to it. Besides, school doesn't last forever.

Anyway, I eat breakfast and look around for my school bag. Once I've found it I head outside and grab my bike. At a cry from my mother I remember to put my helmet on.

Then I cycle the short distance to school in an almost lazy fashion. I look around at everyone who passes: adults off to work, little children clinging to their parents' hands as they go to their first day at school, older children fidgeting as they headed to their first day at Secondary School… poor, poor things. They don't know what they've let themselves in for.

I enter the grounds of Kadic and chain my bicycle up. My school bag feels a bit too light; I've yet to receive the books that'll drag it down for the rest of the year. However I do have some stuff in it. I head over to one of the benches and pull out one of my many Manga comics.

I've barely gotten to page five when I hear footsteps. I look up, ready to make some sort of scathing comment, but when I see it's just Pandora I give a sort of smile in greeting and put _Cardcaptor Sakura _away.

'Good morning, Pandora,' I say.

Pandora nods a greeting.

'I see you've dyed your hair again,' I continue. Last year her hair was an acidic green; now it's electric blue. In a kind of strange way it works well with her dark purple bandana.

Pandora nods again. 'You should try it, sometime. You'd look good as a blonde.'

I make a face. 'You don't see many blonde Asian women, Pan.'

'You can be the first, then. Be an individual.'

Individualism is very important to Pandora. Once you get that, you can understand the brightly coloured hair, the stripy off-the-shoulder shirt, the denim three-quarter trousers and the overlarge trainers.

Pandora puts her head on one side. 'How about dark red, then?'

'I'll end up looking like a Harajuku girl! You know,' I explain, 'one of those girls who follow Gwen Stefani round.'

Not exactly the best description of a Harjuku girl, but the one most Westerners will understand.

Silence between us. Then Pandora says, 'Did you sign up for that Help Another Scheme last year?'

'Yeah,' I answer, a little uncertain. I joined because Mom said it would look good on my College Application.

Pandora's face splits into an evil grin. 'Ha ha,' she says. 'You have to look after one of the new kids.'

My mouth drops open. 'Why me?' I despair. 'I have no _patience_ with some kid three feet tall who can't even tell left from right!'

I know _I _used to be one of the new kids, but give me some credit. I was taller.

Pandora shrugs. 'Wish I could help,' she says, although we both know that's a lie, 'but I'm afraid you're stuck. You gotta report to the principal's office and he'll tell you what kid you'll be minding.'

I give a sort of exasperated sigh and pick my bag up, swinging it over my shoulder. 'Bye, Pandora,' I say.

'Bye, Yu.'

I wish she wouldn't call me that. My name just should _not _be shortened. I don't bother saying anything, though. Pandora isn't exactly my friend – we just happen to know each other – so there isn't really much point in asking her not to abbreviate my name. It's not as if she talks to me every day; more like once a week, if none of her actual friends are here.

I enter Kadic's main school building and relax a bit. I may not like the students or the teachers or even the subjects, but I love the school. Its smell, the way the corridors twist around… I love it.

I start walking to Jean-Pierre Delmas' office, dragging my feet on the polished floor. Occasionally I glance up at the various displays and posters on the walls. They're not actually all that interesting; mainly about how amazing Kadic's past students were. Nothing, I notice, about their _current _students.

Still, can't blame them. Kadic'd be a brilliant school without students.

Outside Mr Delmas' office, I run into one of the reasons why.

His name is James Moriarty. He has brownish-black hair slicked back from his forehead, wears the 'latest' sports gear and talks as if there is no 'h' or 't' in the alphabet, littering his dialogue with swearing and words that no one else really understands; but I guess that doesn't matter, because he doesn't know what he's talking about half the time. He smokes because he thinks it's cool. He is the epitome of stupidity. He is, to all extents and purposes, a chav.

And I really, truly, deeply, in every sense of the word, _HATE HIM_.

Why? He's about to show us why.

James spots me coming and makes a sort of 'ha' noise. 'Yumi, my girl,' he begins.

'I'm not _your _girl,' I snap.

His group – all of them as stupid as their leader – guffaw.

'Yumi, Yumi,' James says. 'When are you goin' to admi' that you luuurve me?'

'When America turns Communist!' I say. (I never say 'when Hell freezes over' because I'm not really religious).

James laughs. That's probably the thing I hate most: however snappy the comeback, however clever the insult, he just _laughs_. Too stupid to understand and too idiotic to realise that one of these days, I swear, I'm going to kick his brains out.

'We all know tha' you're jus' _dyin_'to ge' off with me,' James continues, oblivious to my rising temper.

'If you don't _shut up_,' I hiss, '_you're _going to be one who's dying!'

Mr Delmas opens the door then. He's quite a nice principal, when you think about it. 'Miss Ishiyama,' he says pleasantly. Then he notices James. 'Oh… and Mister Moriarty.'

Mr Delmas glances along the length of the corridor. There are some other students arriving, most of them those annoyingly cheerful types who genuinely want to help. Morning people. Blech.

'Are we all here?' Mr Delmas says. One of the girls in the year above me says that, 'Hannah's got the flu.'

_Flu in the summer? _I think. _Oh, well. It happens_.

Mr Delmas nods gravely as though this piece of news signifies ecological warfare. 'I see,' he says slowly. 'Well, I'm afraid we must make do without Hannah.'

He steps back into his office and comes out holding a pile of papers. 'Everyone form a queue,' he says. 'As I am sure you know, every year Kadic receives a great number of foreign students as boarders. To show that we care, a select few students take one of these students under their wing to show them the wonderful values of our way of life.'

'Select few students'? 'Wonderful values of our way of life'? The 'select few students' are the only ones stupid enough to volunteer. The 'wonderful values of our way of life' are mainly kicking some poor kid's head in because they have an accent.

I don't get why Kadic thinks that only the foreign students are going to have trouble navigating their way around the school; it's as if they believe that French students, even if they come from the other side of the country, will find their way around Kadic with ease, while the foreign ones will end up wandering into a Supply Closet instead of Maths class. (Although, to be fair, that has actually happened… but only to Thierry, who comes from Paris and is not exactly the brightest bulb in the batch).

I step forward and I'm handed a piece of paper with a timetable on it.

'These are their timetables,' Mr Delmas explains. 'This way you always know which classroom they need to get to. There's also information about their dormitories and class on there.'

I look at the bottom of the page.

Ulrich Stern, it reads. Class 1, Room 114.

I fold the paper up and slip it into my pocket.

This Ulrich kid better be an okay kind of guy. For his sake.


	2. 2: Ulrich S

Oh, reviews? So soon? shrinks back a bit Ermm… hi, everyone…

**Tsukia Malleo**: I can assure you that this story IS finished, and I WILL be posting the rest of it. So I won't be leaving you wondering what happens!

**tehrandomkitten**: Thank you, thank you, thank you! Was wondering if posting it was a good idea, but… well, whatever. Thank you again!

**Mousewolf**: Hurrah! Mouse! Yeah, Code Lyoko is a pseudo-anime French cartoon, so they have the pointy chins and stuff but not the big eyes. It is absolutely BRILLIANT. A little cheesy and unrealistic at times, but, apart from Artemis Fowl, Discworld, Alice, and A Series of Unfortunate Events, it is my all-consuming passion! I'm really glad you reviewed, even though you have no idea who the characters are. Thanks, Mouse! (And is my effect on you really that bad:-D)

**Lyoko Lover**:(aren't we all?) Thank you!

**Amaherst**: Ooh, cool name. Thank you!

leans back and looks at the reviews Wow. I managed to 'scape the serpent's tongue'. And I don't think I've ever had so many reviews for a first chapter. Thank you, everybody! Your comments mean so much to me!

_Ulrich S._

I wake up and spend a few moments wondering where the heck I am. Then I glance at the hotel ceiling and remember that I'm not kidnapped or dead; just in a hotel in France, several miles from home.

I lie still for a few moments, just looking up at the ceiling as darkness shrouds around me. I glance at my alarm clock, which tells me that it's 04:42. Two hours until it goes off. Far too early to actually consider doing anything.

However I am one of those people who, once I wake up, just can't get back to sleep.

So I think. I think about my beloved home in Germany, where I will not set foot for another seven weeks. I think about my family who I will not see for the same amount of time. I think about my school, my soccer team, my room… everything I'm leaving behind.

Will I miss it? Yes. Undoubtedly, yes. I will miss it so much sometimes I will feel like tearing my heart out, the homesickness hurts so bad. I'll go silent and stare out the window and pass through life in a sort of monotonous dread, hoping for the day I get to go home and tell my parents that, no, sorry, I don't actually like Kadic.

I still don't get why I couldn't just go to a German school. I mean, it's closer, so I don't have to board at some French place, and it's definitely less expensive. Plus my friends will be there, and the school does have a reputation for turning out some of the best soccer players in the country…

Okay, so what if some of the smartest people in the world went to Kadic? So what if Stephen Hawking gave a lecture there?

_I don't care_.

I just want to go home, okay?

I mean, I wouldn't have had to go through all the trouble of learning French and staying overnight at some random hotel because Kadic is too far away to go every day but near enough for occasional visits… okay, so learning French wasn't that hard: we'd covered most of the basics in school and I live on the border between the two countries, so I had plenty of opportunities to test my ability.

It's the boarding part I hate the most. I could probably cope if it was just a school; but boarding school? Where I will spend not just every day but every damn night?

I feel like dying.

This isn't actually an uncommon feeling for me; apparently melodrama is my second biggest fault (my biggest being no sense of humour).

I sigh and get out of bed, glancing across the room to where my Dad's sleeping. I said goodbye to the rest of my family yesterday. I really don't want to have to go through that again.

I open one of my suitcases as quietly as I can and pull out some of my clothes: baggy green trousers, olive green shirt, and a jacket that is – you guessed it – green. Then I grab my toothbrush and comb and head into the bathroom.

It's a very small one with barely enough room for the bath. Careful to make as little noise as possible I take a shower and then dress.

I rub the mist off the mirror and look at my reflection.

A frowning teen with brown hair, wet from the shower, and piercing eyes looks back at me.

I sigh again. Back in Germany, the face in the mirror was the captain of the soccer team, with a large group of friends and 'groupies'. They were crazy, but very funny. Two girls who sat behind me in most lessons and followed me to each and every one of my soccer matches, chanting some of the stupidest rhymes and making fun of the cheerleaders. I'll miss those two. They always knew how to cheer me up.

They're still in Germany. I don't think I'll ever see them properly again. I don't think I'll ever laugh as hard as I did at their impressions of teachers and celebrities. I mean, who would make me? Here, I'm… nobody. Just some new kid with no friends and a soccer ball. Someone who's barely worth noticing. Someone who, to all extents of the word, is invisible.

I towel dry my hair and then comb it, styling it into side-facing spikes. This used to be part of my trademark. Now it's just weird.

Then I unlock the bathroom door and sit on my bed until my alarm greets the day with its beeping.

After several hours it does so, waking my Dad up, who grunts before sitting up, rubbing his eyes blearily. He turns and looks at me, sitting straight-backed on the end of the hotel bed and staring a hole in the wall. He takes in the washed hair and the clothes.

'Couldn't sleep, son?' he says soothingly.

I shake my head.

'I was nervous too, on my first day at secondary school.'

Except he knew that once the day was over he could go home and see his family and complain about school dinners to his parents. The most comfort I can expect is a voice on the other end of the phone.

My eyes go hot and prickly. I blink, creating a barrier to stop the tears falling. I don't want to cry. I have no real reason to.

I feel like it anyway.

My Dad doesn't say anything else, just nods sympathetically and heads into the bathroom. I stay where I am and keep staring at the wall until the urge to sob lessens.

Eventually Dad finishes. He steps out and looks at his watch. 'It's twenty past seven, Ulrich,' he says. 'The bus'll be arriving soon.'

Ten minutes is hardly soon, but what else is there to do in the room? I make sure all my stuff is in my suitcases and then Dad opens the door and I head out into the corridor, dragging my cases – one green, one black – behind me.

We sit in the lobby. Dad tries to start up a conversation but I don't trust myself to speak. So we just sit in uncomfortable silence until a white and brown coach pulls up outside.

My Dad claps me on the shoulder. 'Good luck, Ulrich.' He pulls a ten-Euro note out of his pocket. 'Treat yourself,' he says, and hands it to me.

I nod a thank-you – still too scared of speaking – and stand up. I head out of the lobby, pulling my suitcases, and head towards my new life.

I'm greeted by a large man in a tracksuit, with a plaster on one cheek and a sweatband around his head. This isn't exactly the most encouraging hello, but seen as I don't expect much of Kadic I'm hardly disappointed.

The large man consults a clipboard in his left hand. 'Ulrich Stern?' he asks in a gruff voice.

I nod.

'I'm Jim,' the man says. He takes my suitcases and places them in a compartment in the side of the coach. With a jerk of his head he indicates that I should clamber aboard. Taking a deep breath I do so.

There are lots of other kids aboard, not all my age. It looks very packed. I start walking down the aisle, very aware of curious eyes on me, as I look for a seat.

The only available one is next to a blond boy with glasses who's got his chin in his hand and is staring out the window with a serene expression on his face. He looks a bit like Harry Potter, except this kid's wearing a blue turtleneck and beige trousers instead of Hogwarts robes.

'Is this seat taken?' I ask.

The boy looks up. He smiles. 'No,' he says. 'Feel free to seat yourself.'

_Oh, great_, I think. _A dictionary_.

He smiles again and holds out his hand. 'I'm Jérémie Belpois,' he says.

I sit down and shake his hand. 'Ulrich Stern,' I say.

Jérémie nods. 'German name. Are you…?'

I nod.

Jérémie appears to be thinking. I can't help but smirk. You see, about ninety percent of people, upon hearing I'm German, immediately think, _Oh, gods, a Gerry, don't mention the War!_ Unfortunately, because they've thought that, all they _can _think about is swastikas and Hitler. I don't actually mind if they do; the War is history, and if we ignore history we're doomed to repeat it. It's just funny watching people trying not to think about Concentration Camps and eventually giving up and saying, 'So, nice weather we've been having.'

Jérémie, however, appears to be an exception to the rule. 'Albert Einstein was German,' he says.

I nod, slightly surprised (and more than a little disappointed). 'Yeah, there was a museum exhibition about him on a while back. I went with my school.'

'Really?' Jérémie's eyes light up. 'What was it like?'

'Oh, you know,' I say, cursing myself for mentioning it. 'There was just a lot of mumbo-jumbo about emc2 and some pictures of him.'

Jérémie nods. 'I've got a poster of him.'

Inwardly, I sigh. Could I have chosen to sit by _more _of a dork?

For the rest of the journey Jérémie talks about practically everything under the sun, only shutting up when the bus slows down.

'Well, we're here,' he says brightly.

I look out the window. Kadic doesn't look like anything spectacular: just a collection of large brick buildings with a few trees and some benches. I see that another bus has already parked and there are students clambering out of that one.

'Okay,' the man who introduced himself as Jim says. 'I know you're all eager to get off the bus, but if you would all please form an orderly queue and wait while I get your luggage…'

'Orderly,' Jérémie repeats. 'Ha!'

He's telling the truth: the line that forms is more a scrum than anything. Eventually I fight my way to the front and get my stuff. Then I have to fight my way out again, this time lugging two huge suitcases.

Finally, I'm free. My gaze roams around as I try to get a good look at Kadic. It's not an unpleasant-looking sort of place. There's a path off to my left that snakes around the back of the main building towards a cluster of trees and I can see goal posts between a gap. So at least they have a soccer pitch.

A large group of students has appeared around the buses. They're calling the names of some of the new students. They look like a cheerful bunch. I make a mental note to avoid them as much as possible.

Hang on. Is someone calling _my _name?

I turn and my breath catches in my throat.

A tall girl with slanted eyes and black hair is barely two metres in front of me. She's quite pale; obviously hasn't succumbed to the fashion of fake tans that most girls think is attractive. In fact, she has a sort of air about her that says that fashion happens to other people; her large boots obviously weren't bought at a designer outlet. She doesn't seem to have taken note of the trend of wearing a skirt-type thing over her black trousers either, although her shirt is cut to show off her flat stomach. Her trousers are quite low cut, too. Hanging carelessly off one of her shoulders is a reddish-brown bag.

She stands out amongst the sea of faces but she doesn't look lonely. She stands with her feet slightly apart and there's an air about her that says that she'll stand her ground no matter _what _happens. In her hand she's holding a page of white paper.

I'd love to be able to say that I notice all this – that this girl is definitely a no-nonsense individual who'll take nothing lying down – but all that happens is I think, _wow_, before my brain goes into overload.

She looks up from the piece of paper and notices me gawping. She puts her head on one side and I'm so sure she's about to challenge me when she notices someone over my shoulder. Her face splits into a grin.

'Jérémie!' she cries.

I do a double take. The Einstein fan knows _her?_

Jérémie grins back. Then – bizarrely – he bows formally. 'Konichiwa, Yumi-tan,' he says.

Yumi-tan? Weird name.

The girl returns the bow. 'Nice to see you again, Jérémie,' she says. As she straightens up she notices me.

'Who are you?' she asks sharply.

'Ulrich,' I stutter. 'Ulrich Stern.'

She glances at the piece of paper. 'Ah,' she says. 'So I've found you.'

Why was she looking for me in the first place?

She grabs the handle of one of my suitcases and picks up Jérémie's sports bag. 'Come on,' she says. 'I'll show you where the dorms are. Although,' she adds, 'I've never actually explored it myself, so don't get mad if we get a bit lost.'

How on earth would I be able to stay mad at something so beautiful?

She leads me and Jérémie into the biggest building of all, a three-storey thing made of sandy brick. She keeps consulting the doors and the piece of paper in her hands. Eventually, after climbing more stairs than I care to remember and what feels like several hours of walking, she stops in front of a door that looks completely identical to all the other.

'I think this is it,' she says. Tacked to the door is a post-it note. She consults that, too. 'Yes,' she says. 'Ulrich Stern and… hey, how cool is this? You two share a dorm!'

Oh, wonderful. So cool that I can barely contain myself. NOT.

The girl pushes open the door. 'Ooh,' she says. 'You both get your own desks.'

She dumps Jérémie's bag on one of the beds and rolls my suitcase next to the other. Then she stands in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips. 'It's bigger than I thought it would be,' she says offhandedly.

Jérémie enters first with me following behind, still trying very, very hard to get the black-haired girl out of my head.

'Well,' she says to me, 'my name's Yumi Ishiyama; if you're lost or something, just ask for me. 'Course, doesn't mean you'll _find_ me, but then you'll have the satisfaction of knowing that you at least tried.'

'Don't be horrible,' Jérémie says vaguely as he begins unpacking. 'Ulrich sat by me on the bus here.'

Yumi puts her head on one side and I get the distinct feeling that I'm being tested. 'Really?' she says. Finally she seems to have come to a decision, and I get the feeling that I only narrowly passed. 'Guess you can't be that bad, then.'

Excuse me? My opinion of her lessens slightly. _I'm_ the one who decides how bad I am, missy.

Yumi shrugs and turns towards the door. 'Well,' she says, 'you two have the morning to unpack. I'll see you in the cafeteria at lunchtime. Until then, sayonara.'

She leaves, closing the doors with a soft click behind her.

She is a very strange person. At least, I _react _strangely to her. Half of me can't get over how damn pretty she is; the other half of me is filled with the desire to give her, as my Gran would put it, 'a good talking to'.

I open my suitcase and begin unpacking in a sort of dream.

Jérémie glances at me. He smiles. 'Yumi has that affect on a lot of boys,' he says.

I jump; I'd almost forgotten he was in the room.

I blush and don't look at Jérémie. 'Really?' I say in a would-be carefree manner. 'Has she got a… y'know…?'

'Boyfriend?' Jérémie completes. 'No. I don't think she has enough patience. Most of the boys here are utter idiots, to use her words.'

I try not to let my disappointment show. There goes my theory that Kadic won't be all bad.

Jérémie – I swear he's psychic – notices this too. 'Don't worry,' he says. 'I'll vouch for you.'

I nod glumly and continue unpacking.

Looks as if Kadic will be just as bad as I feared.


	3. 3: Jérémie B

Twelve new reviews. _Twelve_. Oh my gosh. lies down somewhere until the excitement wears off

**Otritzi**: Thanks. I loved writing Yumi; she's like the girl I'd like to be. Ulrich was fun too, because we're kind of alike (both of us have problems talking to people), and Jérémie was cool as well, and just wait until I get to write Odd! Afraid our blonde dog-loving pal doesn't appear in this story, but BEAR WITH ME. He WILL appear eventually!

**Angles 'n Dreams**: Is it? Oops, my bad. I just read this one story where someone said 'Yumi-tan' and it sort of stuck.

**Tsukia Malleo**: I've done that with most of my stories, but just decided to write this one all at once, so I could see what the overall affect was. I wasn't sure if I was going to post it or not, but, well… now I'm glad I did!

**Mousewolf**: My sister's description when she saw the show. (Her commentary was ever-so-funny, because all the episodes I have are in Welsh, and she doesn't understand a word, so she just made comments on everything she saw. Hee hee!) Jérémie isn't as mopy as the actually Harry Potter, just saying that now, and he is WAY better looking than Daniel Radcliffe.

**tehrandomkitten**: Aren't they just? The whole point of being a teen is complaining about how unfair the world is; at least, it is from Ulrich's point of view. And mine too at times.

**mystic ned**: REAL mysterious, Ned! James Morairty and Trystan? Now WHY would you think that…? ;-)

**Amaherst**: All will be revealed! Odd isn't in the story yet – on the pilot episode _Garage Kids_, it shows him arriving when Yumi, Ulrich, and Jérémie are already friend. But don't worry; Odd will have his day!

**RaevanDawn**: You watch _Code Lyoko_ too? Wow, I'm surrounded by familiar names and faces!

**Harry Potter Mania**: Posting! Posting!

**HvonM**: Thanks! I thought it'd be fun to see the group when they've first met and stuff, before Lyoko. (Which doesn't appear in this story, BTW, but if this one does well I'll write the sequel, where they meet Aelita and stuff).

**SuperAdmiralOfTheWeb**: Your wish is my command!

Now, this is where I either lose everyone or gain more people. I'm not sure if I've got Jérémie right; in the absence of Odd, I've made him a little more sarcastic than he is in the show. But, whatever: it's your opinions that matter! Note: there is no computer game called _Fatal Glory _in this world. But, if you want to have some sort of idea what it's like, it's a cross between _The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind_, _Quest for Glory_, and _Neverwinter Nights_.

_Jérémie B._

Yumi can be incredibly insensitive sometimes. I mean, this guy obviously adores her – love at first sight, and all that jazz – and yet she just blows him off and treats him as if he's some kind of lower life form, suitable only for squashing.

Ulrich strikes me as quite a nice person. He didn't immediately insult me or make fun of my accent, and didn't call me a geek like most people would. He isn't even complaining about sharing a dormitory with me. I know he wants to, but he's being polite and staying silent. This shows that he _does _care about my feelings, even if he doesn't really care for me.

I unroll my poster of Albert Einstein and attach it to the wall with blue-tack.

Ulrich glances over. 'Are you sure we're allowed to do that?' he asks. 'Won't it ruin the walls or something?'

I shrug. 'It's my room. Unless you'd rather I took it down…?'

'What? No, don't worry. So long as you're okay with my posters.'

'Sure. Is it okay if I set my computer up?'

He nods and unrolls a poster. It shows a two teens in karate costumes with various flags from different countries swirling around them. I wonder what it's for, but then just write it off as a band or something.

Ulrich opens out more posters and I begin setting my computer up. When everything's in place I turn it on and make sure everything's working. Good, it is. When I open up the Internet Explorer I find that there's also wireless internet access in the room. Very good.

Then I begin unpacking my CDs, web cam, and other computer 'junk'.

Ulrich's placing some books and photos on one of the bookcases. He looks at some of my games. Then he notices the one on top.

'_Cool!_' he says, rushing forward and momentarily forgetting about the photos of his family. '_Fatal Glory!_'

'You've played it?' I ask.

'Are you _kidding?_' he exclaims. 'I _love _this game! It's _brilliant!_'

I laugh at his enthusiasm. 'I'm glad you think so. You have no idea how hard it is to find fans of this thing.'

'Tell me about it,' Ulrich agrees. 'For such a good game, hardly anyone's heard of it.'

I glance at his suitcases. He's practically finished. 'How about you play for a bit?'

He jumps and eyes me warily. Wondering whether it's right to trust me.

'It's okay,' I say. 'I've brought my laptop, so when I'm done I can play on that. How about we play multiplayer? I think I've brought my network cable…'

He still looks doubtful. Maybe I'm extending the hand of friendship too quickly. I'm not entirely sure how you go about these matters; friends haven't really appeared in my life since preschool. I just have to hope that Ulrich's love for _Fatal Glory _(and possibly Yumi) will lead him to accept me.

Suddenly he grins. 'Thanks,' he says. 'Multi-player'd be cool. I've only done it once, and my friend kept trying to kill me because I had a really cool sword that he wanted.'

'Which one?' I ask as he inserts the disk and starts up the game.

'The Dai-Katana of the Night,' Ulrich says proudly. 'Best weapon in the game.'

'As good as Drana's Staff?' I say as I begin sorting through my clothes.

Ulrich turns to gape at me. 'You got Drana's Staff?' he says incredulously. 'That only happens if you kill Oriette…'

I smile. 'Did I mention I completed the game and have both of the expansion packs?'

The German looks at me with new respect. 'Wow,' he says.

I bow. 'Why, thank you. Your awe is appreciated.'

For the next few minutes Ulrich makes a character. I make suggestions every now and then, as to Class, Race, and general appearance.

'Okay,' Ulrich says as I snap my suitcase shut. 'Wolfe Myazaki, Samurai, Orient, favourite weapon: dai-katana, favoured enemy: Gull Rats… what do I put for general history?'

'Anything,' I say as I turn on my laptop. 'Just don't go saying Wolfe is the son of a millionaire or has super powers.'

'Why would I need to do that when there are the Boots of Flying Speed?'

The next few hours pass in a blur as the two of us play. We occasionally shout at the screen and at each other (all in the name of fun, you understand. Neither of us were being serious), then fall about laughing at the stupidest jokes. I'm glad I have Ulrich to keep me company through the school year. I do not mean to make assumptions, but you hardly tell someone you are intending to ignore for the rest of the year about the incident when you were nine and confused 'Protestant' with 'prostitute'.

During a particularly loud bout of laughter the door opens and Yumi slinks in. She takes one look at me and Ulrich and raises an eyebrow. 'Okay,' she says slowly. 'What are you on?'

'Sugar high!' I say.

'Minus the sugar!' Ulrich chimes in.

'Gods, you're weird,' Yumi says. She turns away from us and catches sight of the computer screen. Her jaw drops.

'Is that…?'

'Indeed it is,' I answer. '_Fatal Glory_, plus expansions.'

'_Sugoi!_' Yumi shouts, and immediately kneels down between me and Ulrich. 'I love this game. So what are you two being?'

'I'm a Spellbinder,' I answer.

'Samurai,' says Ulrich.

Yumi nods. 'Cool. I like playing the Geishas, or just any Thief-type class. Nicking stuff is the only was to get ahead.'

'Hear that, Ulrich?' I say. 'Lock the door.'

Yumi hits me lightly on the arm.

Ulrich's eyes flicker between Yumi and me. Possible jealousy? Oh, I hope not. I do love Yumi, but it's more big-sister-little-brother love than the type he's thinking of.

'How do you two know each other?' he asks eventually.

I just _know _that Yumi's reply will be a snappish one, so I cut in first. 'My family took me skiing two years ago,' I say. 'I broke me leg and had to spend the whole two weeks sitting in the lodge.' Not that I minded. I much prefer reading to falling over.

'I was there too,' Yumi continues. 'There were some kids hassling Jérémie so I sorted them out.'

'Yumi, you knocked one of them out.'

'That was accidental.'

'What about the broken nose?'

'Okay, so maybe that one was a _little _bit my fault…'

'We've been e-pals since then,' I say.

Ulrich nods. 'Cool. Now we're all at school together.'

Yumi's features tense a little. 'Of course.' She stands up, and suddenly she seems colder. 'In five minutes the bell rings for lunch. The cafeteria is the one-storey building with big glass windows. Your meals are paid by your tuition fees, so no need to carry any cash. G'dbye.'

She leaves.

I look at Ulrich. He's got an eyebrow raised and a curious expression. Without saying it, I know what he's thinking.

'Yumi hasn't really had good experiences with the guys here,' I say carefully. 'They tend to… you know…'

Ulrich nods. 'There were a few guys like that at my school. Of course, they were about seven, so the hoodies were way too big for them; they looked more like Ringwraiths than tough chavs. But I know what you mean. They make fun of Yumi for being different and try and go out with her just to prove they can, right?'

I nod.

Ulrich sighs. 'Poor Yumi.'

His tone is kind, sincere. I guess his feelings for Yumi aren't pure infatuation or a devotion to her appearance; he does seem to genuinely care for her wellbeing. After knowing her for barely three hours and being snubbed by her, Ulrich still wants her to be happy. Maybe there _is _such a thing as love at first sight; or maybe this guy is just really, really, stupid.

A bell rings. I jump and fall off the chair in a heap. Ulrich and I look at each other and both start laughing at the same time, with me complaining about the hardness of the floor in between chuckles. Ulrich helps me up and we head off to lunch.

We exit our room and look around. 'Okay,' Ulrich says. 'Where do we go now?'

I shrug. 'Not a clue. I wasn't really concentrating on the way here. I was too busy praying I didn't have to share a room with a chav.'

I don't even have to ask Ulrich what _he _was thinking about. The blush speaks volumes.

There are footsteps from one end of the corridor. I turn to see a tall girl dressed in pink walking down it, flanked by two boys. One of them is a slightly gormless (okay, a very gormless) looking guy in red shorts and the other has an old-fashioned green top and very bad acne. He squints at me through thick glasses.

The girl catches sight of me. She sighs. 'Follow me to the cafeteria.'

It seems Ulrich hasn't heard her (his mind on other things, maybe?). He turns to me. 'Hey, Jérémie,' he says. 'What's the betting we're going to wander around lost and end up in the girl's part of the dorms?'

I grin. 'Certain,' I say. 'Although Yumi lives outside school with her parents, if you're wondering.'

He turns crimson and looks at the floor.

The girl steps forward, swinging her hips a little more than necessary. 'Hi,' she says brightly, stepping between me and Ulrich. 'I'm Elisabeth Delmas.'

She holds out her hand. Ulrich looks at it politely. 'Nice to meet you, Elisabeth,' he says, looking more than a little confused.

Elisabeth laughs and flicks her hair over her shoulder. It hits me in the face and I step back a bit. 'Please,' she says sweetly, 'call me Sissi. All my friends do.'

'O-kay,' Ulrich says, still looking really uncertain. He steps around Sissi to talk to me. 'Ready to come cafeteria hunting?'

I grin and nod.

'Oh, that's not necessary,' Sissi says. 'I'll show you the way.'

'Erm… thanks,' Ulrich says. Sissi links arms with him and starts dragging him down the corridor, chattering brightly all the time. He looks over his shoulder and gives me a pained look. I try not to laugh.

The boy in the green sweater turns to his friend. 'How come she asks _him_ to call her Sissi?' he says in an affronted tone. He has an annoying, whiny kind of voice. However, I am not one to take anything at face value.

'He was the captain of the soccer team at his last school,' I say.

They both turn to look at me as if I'm something that's crawled out from under a stone. 'Oh,' says the boy with glasses in an unimpressed tone. 'A jock.'

'Not really,' I say politely. 'He just likes football.'

The one in the shorts snorts, and the other raises a eyebrow. 'Only a Brit calls soccer _football_.'

I want to ask why being a Brit is such a bad thing, but I don't get the chance, because they walk in front of me and ignore me for the rest of the walk.

I sigh. I guess not everyone here is as nice as Ulrich.

Eventually we reach the cafeteria. Sissi finally lets go of Ulrich and he quickly steps out of her reach. I help myself to a vegetarian meal of cheese sandwiches and salad.

Sissi sits down at a table and smiles winningly at Ulrich. 'Why don't you sit here?' she says.

It's obviously apparent that Ulrich would rather not, and that he's casting around for a reason to sit somewhere else. He catches sight of Yumi, who's sitting alone and eating her meal in total silence.

'Sorry, Sissi,' my German friend says in a completely unconvincing apologetic tone, 'but I promised my friend I'd sit with her.'

Sissi's head whips around, trying to find Ulrich's friend. She sees Yumi and scoffs. 'Oh, her,' she says in a disinterested tone of voice. 'Don't bother wasting time on her. She's a total loner.'

Not a muscle moves on Ulrich's face, but his eyes grow colder and his voice harsher. 'She's my friend,' he says frostily. 'Come on, Jérémie.'

We start walking, and can both hear Sissi hastily trying to explain herself. Ulrich ignores her.

'Hey Yumi,' he says, and sits opposite the Japanese girl.

She looks up at the two of us with a vaguely panicked look in her eyes. I get the feeling that she's waiting for some kind of signal to run; fight or flight.

I join the two of them and tuck into my sandwich. 'So what actually happens in this assembly?' I say.

'Oh,' Yumi says. 'Mr Delmas talks to you about the school rules and stuff and then you're shown your registration classrooms. There your teacher hands out timetables and maps and stuff. Proper lessons for you begin tomorrow.'

'What lessons did you have this morning?' Ulrich asks.

'Art, History-Geography, and English,' Yumi answers, a little hesitantly.

He nods. 'Cool. I like Art, although I can't exactly draw.'

'Yumi can!' I say. 'She's brilliant at Manga. Especially drawing _Pokémon_.'

Yumi blushes and stares resolutely at her fork.

'Maybe I could see the pictures at some point?' Ulrich says. You can just _tell _that he hopes the answer is yes.

Yumi nods, just once.

Ulrich looks very pleased with himself for the rest of lunch.

It's after school now. I'm sitting on one of the school benches, laptop perched on my knees, and Ulrich's practising his football skills. Passing the ball from his foot to his knee to his chest and eventually balancing it on the back of his neck before starting again.

Yumi's walking toward her bike. Ulrich looks up to say goodbye, then notices that she isn't alone. She's being followed by a guy in a black hoodie who's walking with his arms out at his side; makes him look like a gorilla. It's obvious that she's hardly appreciative of his company.

'Aw, come on, Yu,' the guy says. 'Jus' one kiss won' 'urt…'

Yumi snorts. 'Easy for you to say!' she says. 'It'll mentally scar me for life!'

The guy chortles. 'I knows you wants it.'

'Trust me, I don't.'

Although her tone is sharp and confident, although her face is a mask of disgust, I know she's terrified. One of her hands is holding her bag in place and the other hangs by her side. It's shaking so much it's almost a blur.

Ulrich's face hardens as the guy pushes Yumi against a wall. 'One kiss, and I'll stop buggin' ye…'

Yumi's trying to lean back as far as possible, but is being hampered by the wall. I stand up to at least _try_ to do something. However, before I've even taken a step…

_Whack!_

The guy's head smashes into the wall and his nose breaks, spurting blood all over Yumi's clothes. She pushes him away roughly and takes a few steps away from the school building. Then she looks at the soccer ball lying innocently on the ground and the even-more innocent looking Ulrich. He shrugs.

'Oops,' he says.


	4. 4: Yumi I

Okay, I got home today, and thought, 'Yay, it's Thursday. That means, at five, _Cod Lyoko _is on.' So I turn the TV on. Five o'clock? Bloody _Medabots!_ Hellooo? There were only four episodes left until the end of the series! IS IT TOO MUCH OF AN EFFORT TO SHOW _FOUR MORE EPISODES!_

Then I went on the web and had reviews from all you wonderful people, so that cheered me up. But S4C, if you're listening, please just show those four episodes! You can cancel _Clwb Wincs_, which you've already shown all the way through and is a terrible cartoon anyway. Pleeeeeease? I'm begging you!

**Wombat ?**: Because of the great Cyber Wombat! Don't you remember? (Don't worry, anyone else reading this: it's an ongoing joke between me and Ned).

**tehrandomkitten**: 'Spiked marshmallows'? You're giving me ideas! ;-D

**Amaherst**: Soz; but I was getting tired of writing Jérémie and thought the scene would work better if it was just sudden. What happened is: James was annoying Yumi really badly, so Ulrich hit him on the back of his head with his football. Capish?

**HvonM**: Oooh, thank you.

**thegreengurl**: Thank you very much!

**Otritzi**: Random Sissi chapters? Hmm… now there's an idea… Nah, no Odd and Aelita in this story, I'm afraid. Our pink-haired pal makes her debut in the next story, and Odd a little later. But he will come in! I'm looking forward to writing him too much to leave him out!

**Angels 'n Dreams**: Updating now!

**Mystic Dragon**: Guilty smile. If I could make the chapters any longer I swear I would. I've written them as long as I could. Yeah, I really hate it when people switch POVs every paragraph, because I end up thinking 'What? Who's this now?' I hope the feeling you get is more _Noughts and Crosses _(which gave me the switching views idea) than random changing. No, no XANA either (gods, Fudge, you're terrible). BUT HE WILL COME IN! BEAR WITH ME, PEOPLE! (PS. What does AU stand for? Cos I can't figure it out…)

**parslie**: You wouldn't like it so much if you had to hear it everyday, BELIEVE me. Be glad I didn't give him a female sidekick… her laugh would be worse than nails on a chalkboard…

**Lyoko Lover**: You get _Code Lyoko _in Italy? That is really cool! Is it in Italian or English? I only get Welsh, and S4C has cancelled _Cod Lyoko_ AGAIN and replaced it with _Medabots_… oooh, I'm gonna kill 'em…

**Kay**: Well, I thought, if anyone's gonna get hit by a football, might as well be someone who deserved it, right?

**UlrichwithYumialways**: It's payback for all the times I've almost been hit with a football! Stupid Trystan… grrr…

_Yumi I._

I think I may have misjudged Ulrich. How many guys out there would do _that?_ The only reason he hasn't been given detention is that he's new. If I'd tried a stunt like that I'd probably have been suspended.

However, he isn't, so I'm heading to his and Jérémie's room. Jérémie's in Computer Club, so that'll keep him occupied for at least the next hour. My parents don't mind me being at school after the day's finished; I guess they're just glad I now have people I'm willing to call friends. I don't think they're too keen about the fact that they're both male, but some is better then none, no?

I take a deep breath outside the door and knock. There's no answer. I place my ear to it.

'_I drove for miles and miles and wound up at your door_…' someone's singing. It isn't belting-out-at-the-top-of-your-lungs singing; it's quiet, soft singing, like when you're listening to your mp3 player or something.

I enter stealthily. Ulrich's sitting on his bed with his back to the door. He's reading and listening to his CD player.

I slip behind him and remove the earphones. 'Wouldn't have thought you'd be a Maroon 5 fan,' I say.

He looks at me and smiles. It's a warm, sincere smile that makes me feel a hundred percent better. 'My cousin gave me the CD for my birthday. I was surprised, actually: "Maroon 5" sounds like a type of paint.'

I laugh, even though the joke isn't actually that funny. It isn't a forced laugh, either. Ulrich grins at me and swings his legs off the bed. I sit down.

'Listen, I…' I begin, but find it hard to look at him while talking, so I turn to stare at my hands. 'I wanted to… thank you. For yesterday.'

'Why?' he says. 'What did I do yesterday?'

This time I _do _look at him. He looks perfectly innocent, except for the fact that his eyes are shining mischievously.

'You know very well,' I say, and grin. 'James has had to go to hospital, y'know. So… thanks. Not many people would've done that; James has a lot of thuggish friends.'

Ulrich shrugs. 'I don't care if he was head of the Kadic Mafia,' he says. 'He was annoying you, so I stopped him.'

'It's the first time he's ever done that,' I say. 'Usually he just talks.'

Ulrich puts a hand on my shoulder. It feels completely natural. 'He won't _ever _do it again,' he says fiercely.

And I – the world's biggest cynic – believe him completely.

He seems to notice his hand on my shoulder and withdraws it. Shame. It felt… nice.

Eeek! Yumi Ishiyama, _what _is going on here?

I don't know. What _is _going on here?

I reach into my bag and pull out a silver A4 spiral bound book. 'Umm…' I say hesitantly, 'you said you wanted to see my art…'

Ulrich puts his book down and leans closer to me. My heartbeat quickens (will someone please tell me what's going on!).

With shaking hands I open my art book. The first page is a picture of a teenage Manga girl who, yes, _does _look like me. She's dressed in a loose black top and skirt with old-fashioned lady's riding boots and a long black cloak. Poking over her bottom lip is a pair of very sharp incisors. She has an expression that clearly says 'gonna mess with me?'

Ulrich looks from me to the picture. 'Jérémie was right,' he says. 'You _are _a really good artist.'

I smile softly and say something in thanks. Not quite sure what; I'm having trouble concentrating.

For the next half hour or so we sit together, flicking through my art book. Ulrich likes my Poké-pics best, followed by my Manga 'comic'. In truth it's just a few random scenes and character designs, but Ulrich thinks they're really good and is trying to persuade me to make an actual comic.

I shake my head. 'I don't think I have the patience. The average Manga comic is about a hundred and fifty pages long.'

'Well,' he says, 'you can make a non-average comic.'

I wonder if smiling too much has some kind of affect on your health.

'I still don't have the patience.'

'Shame. I'd like to know more about the adventures of Adora Stoker the vampire and Steffan Willows the psychic.'

'And Phillip Cooper,' I add.

Ulrich raises an eyebrow. Blushing slightly, I flick to the second-to-last picture. It shows a handsome youth wearing jeans and a soccer shirt, standing with an eyebrow cocked and his hair askew. Under one arm is a soccer ball.

Ulrich smiles. I think he's taken the drawing as a compliment. I hope he has. I spent ages last night trying to get the hair right.

'So what's Phillip's power?' he asks. He looks pretty pleased with himself, and his eyes are shining cheerfully.

'Hmm? Oh, I don't know. I think he's a werewolf, or something. Maybe he can talk to animals. Haven't really given it much thought.'

'You just thought you'd include him?'

'Yup. Three main characters are better than two, because with two everyone thinks there's some kind of love interest between them. If there are three, two of them can be all romantic while the other makes jokes.'

Maybe it's my imagination, but were Ulrich and I sitting so close to each other before?

He reaches out and gently turns the page. I blush and this time I REALLY can't look at him. Embarrassment is a terrible thing.

In the picture, Adora's snuck up behind Phillip and flung her arms around his neck. It's a close up of their faces: Adora's open adoration and Phillip's pleased affection for the girl he's gazing at. Rose petals float in the background.

I cough. 'It's, umm, not finished yet. I need to do the shading and stuff.'

Why did I draw it? Not a clue. I just though it was… sweet. I'd always felt that there had to be some sort of romantic element in the story, but Adora and Steffan didn't really feel right. Adora and Phillip… does.

I flip to the next page and reveal blank white. I'm glad I didn't draw the next scene between Adora and Phillip. That would make me turn even REDDER.

'I said it once, and I'll say it again: you, Yumi, are the best Manga artist I have ever seen,' Ulrich says. 'Even better than Hayao Myazaki.'

He's sweet.

'Thanks.'

I put my art book away and for the rest of the afternoon we talk. Not about anything important; I tell him which teachers to avoid and he tells me about his experiences at Kadic so far. I tell him about the expression on James's face as the ball smacked into him and he laughs so loudly Jim sticks his head around the door.

'What's going on here?' he asks.

'Nothing, Jim,' I say innocently. 'Just two friends having a laugh.'

Jim raises an eyebrow and looks at Ulrich for confirmation. 'Friends?'

Ulrich manages to stop laughing and puts an arm around my neck. 'Yeah,' he says. '_Friends_.'

Jim still looks suspicious, but leaves anyway. Once his heavy footsteps have retreated to the end of the corridor, Ulrich and I look at each other and burst out laughing again.

'The way he looked at us…' I splutter.

'It's as if he expected me to say you were bullying me or something!'

'Come now, Ulrich, be fair. Jim hasn't ever _had _any friends.'

We laugh even harder, leaning against each other for support. I don't think I've ever had so much fun in my life.

It's a bit weird, to tell the truth: that one person can make me so amazingly happy. Why would anyone need drugs when there's _this?_ In truth, I'm a stranger to such joy, but Ulrich makes the whole thing seem natural, as if it's a place I've been trying to get to and hadn't realised it until he threw open the gates and let me in. Oh dear. I've gone poetic.

The giggles subside but we don't let go of each other. My head's resting on his shoulder, one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his arm. Ulrich's got both arms round my waist and is breathing softly into my neck. He doesn't seem about to let go; then again, neither do I.

I'm not sure for how long we sit like that; could be a few minutes, could be several days. I pull my head back and look at him; he has the most amazing eyes. He looks at me too, his eyes soft and… what? Not a clue. But there's something else there.

I've never been this close to a guy. Well, no, scrap that. I _have_ been this close to _a _guy, but not to a guy I actually _like_. When James pushed me against the wall all I felt was numb terror; now it's as if the rest of the world is fading away, and all that's important is me and Ulrich.

Maybe it's me who leans forward; maybe it's him. All I know is, my eyes are closing and we're drawing closer.

The door opens. 'Hey guys,' Jérémie says.

The effect is immediate: one minute Ulrich and I are holding each other tight, the next we've sprung apart and are sitting at opposite ends of the bed. 'Oh,' Ulrich says, in a voice feigning airiness. 'Hi, Jérémie.'

I'm not sure whether to kill Jérémie or thank him. I mean, what exactly _happened _there? One moment Ulrich and I were in fits of laughter, and the next… _that_ happened. Or nearly did. And I _want _it to happen. Which is just weird! He's hardly my Dream Guy – he's not Johnny Depp, for one thing – and he's younger than me but that really doesn't seem to matter. He'll stick up for me and is nice and smells so good…

AAAARGH! YUMI, STOP THINKING RIGHT THIS MINUTE!

Jérémie hears my sort of strangled groan and turns around. I hope I haven't turned too red. Ulrich's the exact same shade as my Gran's upholstery; that is to say, pure CRIMSON.

'Something wrong?' Jérémie asks.

'No,' I answer, in a voice that makes me sound like I've been breathing helium. 'I'm fine.' _Nearly kissed your best friend, but I'm fine…_ 'I just, umm… gotta go for a walk…'

I pick up my bag and head out of the room, trying oh so hard not to look at Ulrich.


	5. 5: Ulrich S

**HvonM**: First chapter of _CD _is why I think we don't see Yumi show her feelings for Ulrich in season 1… well, except for _Routine_, which is the SWEETEST EPIISODE EVER! Love that episode! (heh heh, sorry. Thank you v. much for the review!)

**Angels 'n Dreams**: Yeah… I'm a romantic at heart…

**Kay**: I don't mean to be stereotypical, but it's very hard to escape from Manga in Japan so I though Yumi would have picked it up sooner or later… plus she's always struck me at being good at art. I don't know why.

**Otritzi**: Mostly soccer in this story… soz. Awkward? You can say that again! ('Awkward'. Yes, yes, no need to take me seriously…)

**tehrandomkitten**: There are some really good 'how to draw Manga' books out there; I'd be lost without them! Yes, I love fluffiness too. I really don't like the episodes without at least a little bit of romance.

**Mousewolf**: Ooh, poor you! From what I've gathered, your brother isn't of a kindly disposition towards you, is he? Poor Mouse! And Jérémie didn't actually see them; just sort of glanced on the way in but mostly ignored them.

**midnightgoth9**: Thank you! I love that line too, and there are some more in here that you might like. I hope you do, at any rate.

**Mystic Dragon**: Oh, so _that's _what it is! Thank you for explaining! Yeah, I guess this story is pretty AU, because it isn't really like the episodes we know… yeah, Jérémie had bad timing. So does practically everyone in _Code Lyoko_. Does anyone remember _Chums? _I don't know why, but I just though of the Dec and Cat snog interruption scenes…

**Boomishkittish**: Aw, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Never really thought of myself as a 'good writer'… it's just something I like doing. I was watching _Fawlty Towers _and there's an episode where these Germans come to stay and Basil Fawlty (played by John Cleese) keeps saying, 'Don't mention the War!' and that rubbed off on me. Odd's Norwegian? I didn't know that. I always thought he was from either New Zealand or America, and Jérémie was either a Brit or Swedish. And I hate my hair in the morning, so I decided to add something to make Yumi a little more girly. And to get revenge on my hair.

**Just me**: I'm afraid to say there's a whole story until Odd comes. Soz. But he does come, and that's the main thing, right?

**Cyber wombat**: I don't know… you just sent me a picture of a wombat once, and wrote 'Mwahahaha! It is not a spider, Alice, it is a wombat, and I am a wombat!' Or something like that, at any rate. Have you done the Drama homework? Because I haven't yet. Oops. (You're just saying it's great so I don't write more in my notebook, ain'tcha? ;-))

**Lyoko Lover**: I HATE it when _Code Lyoko_ gets cancelled! S4C has done this TWICE. I am thinking of writing an angry letter. Or starting a petition. Anyone with me? (Uncomfortable silence). Oh, fine. But they only showed up to _Y Drefn _(_Routine_) which, yes, is a sweet episode, but would it be too much bother to finish the season? S4C, if you're listening, SHOW _COD LYOKO_ AGAIN!

_Ulrich S._

'Okay,' Jérémie says. 'What happened?'

'Not a clue,' I answer. Which is true. I know what _nearly _happened, but I'm not sure what the name is for what _did _happen. Am I glad Jérémie interrupted? Erm… ask me that later. Maybe it's best if Yumi and me do just stay friends; so many couples break up and then never talk to each other again. Then again, it could be 'meant to be' as my cousin puts it.

Jérémie raises an eyebrow. 'Did you two fight?'

Obviously he hadn't seen us when he entered; otherwise he wouldn't have asked such a stupid question.

My blush increases as I wonder what would have happened if Jérémie _had _glanced at Yumi and me and our… compromising positions.

'You didn't, did you? Honestly, Yumi is _unbelievable _sometimes.'

(He can say that again).

'I thought that after what you did yesterday she would have warmed to you…'

'Umm… she has,' I answer. 'We were… umm… talking…'

Jérémie looks confused, then his eyes widen as 'realisation' dawns. 'Oh,' he says. '_Oh_. _Talking_.'

'Not like that!' I gabble, waving my hands in front of my face. 'Jérémie, it isn't…'

Jérémie chuckles. 'I don't really care. So long as you two aren't at each other's throats… in a bad way.'

He's evil.

'Honestly, I'm glad. It's about time Yumi learnt that not every guy in the universe who wants to kiss her is only doing so to prove himself to his friends.'

Could I go even redder?

Jérémie places his bag on his bed and opens it, pulling his laptop out. 'Fancy playing _Fatal Glory?_' he asks nonchalantly.

I agree immediately, glad of any distraction.

'Oh, by the way,' he says, 'football tryouts on Saturday.'

'Thanks,' I say, 'but I play soccer.'

Jérémie rolls his eyes. 'Football, soccer. Tomato, tomaedo. Same thing. The tryouts are tomorrow, after school. I'm sure _Yumi'll _come to give you her support.'

Okay, I'll admit it: I thump him.

* * *

Saturday. The last few days have been extremely… different. I guess you could call them uncomfortable in some ways. Whenever Jérémie wandered off to Computer Club or something, leaving me and Yumi alone, we said barely three words to each other and looked fixedly at the wall, both of us as red as tomatoes (or tomaedos…). Our conversations seem to work better if Jérémie's there, even if he doesn't say anything.

But I'm not going to think about that. Today are the soccer tryouts. I've changed into shorts and a T-shirt and I'm stretching at the edge of the soccer pitch. A few students have wandered over to watch the tryouts; no, I haven't checked to see if Yumi is one of them. I need to concentrate, okay? And not on her.

I've found out that Jim is the soccer coach. He keeps giving me funny looks, then glancing at the stands behind me. He probably still thinks Yumi's blackmailing me or something.

Someone puts a hand on my shoulder. I jump and turn around.

Jérémie's taken a seat in the bottom tier of the stands, right behind me. He's put his bag next to him, and there's a reddish brown bag on his other side. Yumi's. She's come over to talk to me before the tryouts. 'Good luck,' she whispers.

I nod a thank-you and turn back to face the pitch. Well, there goes my concentration. I'll be lucky if I can remember what I had for breakfast now.

A black haired boy who I remember seeing on the bus smiles nervously at me. 'Any good at soccer?' he asks.

'I'm okay,' I say modestly. 'I was the captain of the team back at my old school.'

The boy laughs. 'I'm crap,' he says, 'but I thought I'd give it a go. My name's Julian, by the way.'

'Ulrich,' I say.

'Yeah, I know. You're the one who broke James's nose.'

Amazing how quickly gossip spreads.

Julian leans in closer to me. 'Is it true that Yumi's your girlfriend?'

'Pardon?' Aargh, panic attack. 'No, no. We're friends.'

'Oh,' Julian says. Maybe he was hoping for something else to add to the gossip column of the _Kadic Gazette_. 'So why'd you bash James?'

'He shouldn't have been hassling her.'

'Oh, okay.'

'Ul-_riiiiiiich!_' someone trills.

'Oh, _no_,' I groan, and try and hide behind Julian.

Sissi comes prancing towards me, once again flanked by Captain Gormless and his assistant, Acne Boy.

'Ulrich, _dear_,' she says, fluttering her eyelashes so much I'm surprised she can still see, 'you didn't _tell _me you were interested in soccer.'

'Umm… you didn't ask…'

Sissi laughs in an extremely irritating way. 'Oh, come now,' she says sweetly. 'You should have _told _me. You see, I'm the head cheerleader, and I have no doubt you'll be _fabulous _at soccer…'

'Slut,' someone behind me mutters. I'll be very surprised if it's Jérémie.

'… so I just came to show me my new cheer!'

Someone shoot me _now_.

Sissi smiles like a plastic doll and stands in front of me with her hands on her hips. 'Ready? O_kay!_

'_U, he's gonna beat ya!_

_L, you are the Loser!_

_R, he is a Romeo…_'

I glance at Yumi. She's staring at Sissi and her eye's twitching. I don't think that's a sign that she's about to start handing out ice cream and cookies.

'_I, we all adore him…_'

I hold up my hands. 'Yes, Sissi, that's lovely,' I say, 'but can you please leave me to warm up?'

'Ha ha,' Yumi says behind me in a somewhat _triumphant _voice.

Sissi looks annoyed for perhaps a moment or two, then smiles brightly. 'Of course, Ulrich dear. I'll be rooting for you!'

She waves with her fingers in a completely bimbo fashion before not so much turning as _spinning_ away. She heads to the seats behind me, finds Yumi and Jérémie there, and has to settle with sitting in the tier behind my two friends.

Just when I think I've rid myself of one female, another turns up.

A girl with bright red hair and wearing a long green coat comes running towards me, closely followed by an Asian boy carrying a silver camcorder. The girl stops, tidies her hair, and fixes a big smile on her face.

'Ready?' she asks.

'In five,' the guy says. 'Two, three, four…go.'

'Hello,' the girl says brightly, 'this is Christy Solovieff, reporting to you from Kadic for _Kadic News 27_. I'm here today at the tryouts for the junior soccer team, bringing you the latest news as it happens. Here with me now is one of the many hopefuls, Ulrich Stern, who in the space of a few short days has already made quite a name for himself.'

She turns to me, still with a smile the size of Australia plastered across her face. 'So, Ulrich,' she says, 'why do you want to join the Kadic Junior Soccer Team?'

I take a step backwards from the mike she's thrust at me. 'Erm… I like soccer…'

Christy smiles at the camera again. 'Don't we all?' she says with a fake laugh. 'Is it true that your ball skills broke the nose of James Moriarty, last year's soccer captain?'

He was? Oh, shit.

'Umm… that was an accident.'

'Of course it was, Ulrich,' Christy says with a huge wink at the camera. 'We believe you.'

'Umm, thanks.'

Christy looks behind me. 'Am I right in thinking that here comes James now?'

'Really?' She's right as well. He looks a lot smaller without his hoodie, but when he catches sight of me his expression is one of pure fury.

I step out of camera shot and stand with my back to the tiers of seats. Yumi's stood up and is standing as close to me as she can. Aw, she's worried. SO AM I!

James stands in front of me. His nose is plastered with white. I prepare myself for a punch, but instead he holds out his hand. 'You is goo' a' aimin',' he said. 'Goo' luck.'

I gingerly take his hand.

He lets go almost immediately and says, with a smile of pure evil, 'Course, goo' aim do not tha' you is goin' ta be goo' on the pitch. We will see.'

Yumi puts a hand on my shoulder. 'He won't dare hurt you,' she says. 'If he does, he will _never _have _any _kids.'

Her confidence is encouraging. I just wish she wasn't shaking so much.

James must have heard her, because he turns around to talk to me. 'Oh, I is no gonna hur' ya ye'. Bu' you's be'er watch out… you an' your li'le girlfriend.'

Yumi tries to lunge at him and nearly makes me fall over. James guffaws and struts off.

Jérémie appears beside Yumi. 'Are you going to write your will now,' he says pleasantly, 'or later?'

'Shut up, Jérémie,' Yumi says. 'Ulrich, don't let him worry you. He's all talk. Just ignore him. He's too stupid to do anything.'

'I don't need to _let _him worry me. He's doing that _anyway_,' I say glumly.

Yumi tries to come up with another encouraging line, fails, and deflates a bit. 'Maybe it would've been better if you _hadn't _kicked the ball,' she says unhappily. 'Maybe you should have just sat with Sissi in the first place, and I would've stayed the loner in the corner.'

I take her hand and turn to face her. 'You don't mean that,' I say softly. 'And even if I _could _go back in time, I wouldn't change anything that's happened. Well,' I add, 'except perhaps my aunt's wedding… that was a _disaster_…'

Yumi smiles at me and wipes her eyes with her sleeve. 'Thank you.'

'That's the spirit!' Jérémie cries, punching the air. 'Show them what you can do, Ulrich!'

Yumi pushes me forward gently. I square my shoulders, and the tryouts begin.


	6. 6: Jérémie B

Okay, everyone, here is the last chapter. I'm sorry the story was kinda short, but really if I dragged it out any longer you'd probably yell at me for murdering the time. So, here it is, and I sincerely hope you enjoy!

Note: I don't actually understand soccer myself, so any soccer scenes will, most likely, be told from Jérémie's point of view. All info on football has been obtained from the film _Bend it Like Beckham _which is really, really good.

**Harry Potter Mania**: P-O-S-T-I-N-G! P-O-S-T-I-N-G! P-O-S-T-I-N-G!

**Kay**: Thankee kindly!

**Boomishkittish**: Yeah, we all adore Ulrich really. Julian and Pandora are mostly there because I thought that it would be unlikely that our heroes wouldn't have any friends outside their group. A lot of Yumi's lines come from a friend of mine, **the perfect dingo**. It's like her dialogue, or something. (Totally understand when you say you have trouble waking up in the mornings… my snooze button is the most pressed in the world!)

**BlueWolf**: Just wanted to say that I really love your review!

**Angels 'n Dreams**: Yup, yup, yup, absolutely correct! Milly and Tamiya are younger than the characters, so they wouldn't be at Kadic yet, and so I needed to add some journalists… Milly's big sister just seemed like a very good choice!

**HvonM**: Indeed they are, but seen as Milly and Tamiya are younger then the gang they wouldn't have arrived yet, would they? Don't worry: Christy and Toya can be just as annoying…

**Lyoko Lover**: A young Beckham, yes, but without the weird hair styles. And Ulrich's smarter. Thank you very much for your support; I'm drafting an 'angry letter' as we speak to S4C and if that don't work it's petition time! (And if that doesn't work, could I borrow your gun?)

**Otritzi**: He'll need more than luck… ;-)

**Mousewolf**: Giggle. I hope Mouse doesn't hurt you too bad!

**tehrandomkitten**: Mostly, Manga is just circles. Once you get the hang of it it's really fun! I'm really glad you like the jokes: I'm not the most comedic person, but I do try.

**starting to run out of names**: (just call yourself Wombat!) It's not exactly Cardiff: it's chav. Y'know, like Alice Ll. when she was being Sadie in the re-write of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_? It's supposed to sound like that. _Supposed _to.

**Amaherst**: Thank you!

**Mystic Dragon**: Did they? I thought they'd only named a few of the classmates… thank you! Julian and Pandora are mainly just little miscellaneous people who pop up occasionally, while Christy and Toya are just there until Milly and Tamiya are old enough. No, none of them are Mary Sues! (Jérémie's 'innocent front'? Never trust glasses. They do something to your brain…)

**midnightgoth9**: I'm really, truly glad that you like them!

Now, the grand finale!

_Jérémie B._

It's strange how such a small and frankly insignificant event can mean so much to the student body; three students in particular.

I want Ulrich to finish the tryouts in one piece. Yumi wants him to show up James if he can, but mostly just get through without too serious injuries. I'm not quite sure what Ulrich wants – to make the team, presumably – but I'm sure he also, at least partly, wants to survive.

Yumi's fidgeting. Her forehead's creased in worry as she watches Ulrich join the other boys around Jim.

I put a hand on her shoulder. 'He's going to be fine,' I say.

'Yeah,' she says, 'and if you had some way of proving that I'd… I'd…'

'You'll tell me what you and Ulrich did when I walked in on you?'

She turns a very delicate shade of pink. 'We looked at my art book and… talked.'

I grin evilly. '_Sure _you did. _Talk_. _That's _why for the last few days you've been blushing every time you look at each other…'

Her reaction isn't as spectacular as Ulrich's. 'Yes, Jérémie, _talk_. We are friends and _talked_ about friendly things. Would you like me to recite our conversation?'

I pat her shoulder. 'That's not necessary. I'm glad you like each other, that's all.' She looks at me a bit suspiciously at the word 'like', but doesn't say anything. 'It'd be hard to be the best friend of two people who hate each other's guts.'

Yumi still looks suspicious, then sighs in a slightly dreamy manner and turns to look at the field; or, more specifically, one of the people on it. 'I can tell you now,' she says, 'that is the _last _thing I feel right now.'

I look from her to Ulrich and realise that, for the next few years, I am going to have to put up with this at least once a week. Maybe it would have been better if they _did _hate each other. At least then they wouldn't keep making doe-eyes at each other and sighing.

Still, I suppose it could be worse. They could be constantly glued to each other. At least their shyness will prevent that… for now, at any rate.

Jim blows his whistle and the boys get into pairs. They start passing a ball to each other, slowly and rather boringly.

'So how exactly do you play football; I mean, soccer?' I ask casually.

'Hmm? I don't know the exact rules,' Yumi says, not looking away from a player with spiky brown hair, 'but I think you just have to score goals and stop the other team from scoring more. That's the general idea, at least.'

I nod. 'How do you score goals?'

The boys have started running up and down part of the pitch, trying to stop their partner from getting the ball. Pointless exercise. It's obvious Ulrich isn't going to let anyone nick the white-and-black thing he's passing from one foot to the other.

Yumi turns to me, looking absolutely incredulous. 'You really don't know? Jérémie Belpois, smartest kid in the universe, doesn't know how to score a _goal?_'

'Come now, Yumi,' I say in a hurt voice. 'Football hasn't really played a major role in my life.'

Yumi sighs. 'Okay. You see that thing over there with the white net? Yes, that. That's the goal. There's another one over there. There are two teams, and each team has a goal. See, the boys are splitting up now, and – oh, bollocks,' she says in a gob-smacked voice, 'Ulrich and James are on opposite teams. Oh, _no_.'

Ulrich and James stand parallel each other on opposite ends of the pitch. Yumi's swearing under her breath in every language she can think of; hearing her when she's in a bad mood is an education.

'Ulrich, you _baka_, move… play somewhere else… why not goalkeeper? What's wrong with goalkeeper? _Move_, you suicidal git…'

And so on and so forth.

'Right, you lot,' Jim says, 'I want a nice clean game. This is just a six-a-side practice, so no need to play as if your life depends on it, okay? This is a friendly.'

As if anyone believes him. The boys on the pitch are glaring at each other so much I'm surprised the grass hasn't caught fire.

Jim places the ball on the ground between two of the players and blows his whistle. Ulrich's side gets it first; their centre player is a black haired youth who I think is a boarder. He passes it to Ulrich, who passes it back, who passes it to Ulrich again, (what was the earthly point of that?) who scores.

'YES!' Yumi shouts, jumping up in the air. When she notices both Sissi and Christy looking at her she sits back down and tries to sink into her seat.

Ulrich gives her the thumbs up sign. Yumi grins and waves. I mimic her when she isn't looking, earning a sign from Ulrich. I don't really need to describe it; use your imagination.

The players head back to their original positions and the ball is placed in the centre circle again. Jim blows his whistle again, and this time James's side gets the ball. Except Ulrich steals the ball right from under James's feet and kicks it to another player on his side, where the ball is passed down the pitch until it nearly reaches the opposite team's goal, where it is intercepted by James's team, and it just goes on and on. Eventually I stop trying to keep score and make a mental note to bring a book to the next game.

I yawn widely and Yumi shoots a glare at me. 'You can at least _pretend_ to be interested,' she says testily.

'I am,' I say. 'I'm just not a very good actor.'

'_Jérémie_,' she says, taking her eyes off the game, 'a friend of ours is out there and – what's happened?'

For Jim has blows his whistle and the players are gathered around someone on the pitch. Yumi vaults over the player's bench in front and runs to that point. At a much more sensible pace, I follow.

By the time I reach them Yumi's fought her way to the centre of the circle and is kneeling next to the casualty, not noticing the mud she's getting on her trousers. It probably won't surprise you much to learn that the unfortunate is Ulrich, or that James is the one being accused of foul play; to be specific, accused of stamping a hole in Ulrich's leg with his football boots.

'You _git!_' Yumi screams as she puts an arm around Ulrich. He's got his face screwed up with pain and he's clutching his leg. 'James, what was the bloody point in that! Why the f–'

'Language, Yumi,' I say.

Yumi rolls her eyes. 'Whatever. Why did you do that, James?'

Ulrich tries not to make a sound but can't stop a groan of pain escaping. Yumi's attention is immediately transferred to him, and she puts her other arm around him. 'You okay? No, stupid question, you've got a dirty great hole in your leg. Hasn't anyone got a First Aid kit or something?'

'Jim's gone to fetch one,' one of the boys says.

Yumi nods. 'Good.' In a much more gentle tone of voice she says to Ulrich, 'Can you stand? Here, I'll help.'

Rather shakily Ulrich gets to his feet, practically hanging off Yumi. 'It's okay,' she says soothingly. 'It's okay, someone's going to get Nurse Dorothy, and then you can spend the next few days lazing around in your room playing _Fatal Glory_ or Solitaire or something…'

Ulrich shakes his head. 'No.'

'What do you mean, "no"? Got something against Solitaire?'

'I _meant_ no one's to get Nurse Dorothy. Just put a bandage on it or something; I'll be fine.'

Yumi looks at him incredulously. He hardly looks fine. His legs are plastered with mud from his fall and one of them has a continuous stream of blood trickling down it from a hole underneath his knee. I can see a bit of white amongst the blood. James was very angry.

'Ulrich,' Yumi says, 'now is not the time to go all heroic. You're injured, and it'd be best for everyone if you just _sit down _and _stop _being so stupid! This is not Middle-Earth!'

'And you're not bloody Arwen! You can't tell me what to do!'

Uh-oh. First fight. Not good.

They glare at each other. Then Yumi sighs and closes her eyes, putting her head next to Ulrich's. 'You're right, of course,' she says. 'If you want to risk your neck then whatever, it's your skin. But will you at least let me clean the blood away?'

She looks at him with an almost pleading look in her eyes. He smiles and says, 'You think I was going to trust Jim to do it?'

He limps back to the player's bench, and Yumi takes the green First Aid kit out of a stunned Jim's hands on the way past. Ulrich sits down and Yumi kneels in front of him, carefully cleaning the blood away with a piece of cotton wool dabbed with disinfectant.

Christy and her cameraman friend are on their way over. 'Jérémie,' Yumi says calmly, as she wipes a bit of blood away, 'will you please keep the press busy?'

I groan (for of course I have followed them back to the benches). 'Do I have to? I'm allergic to journalists.'

'Yes, Jérémie, you have to.'

Yumi puts another piece of cotton wool on the wound and starts securing it in place with a bandage. I sigh and turn to face the media.

'Exciting new development at the junior soccer tryouts!' Christy shouts breathlessly. 'Ulrich Stern, who everyone was so sure would get in the team, appears unlikely to complete the tryout because of a knee injury!'

'It isn't an ordinary knee injury,' I say. 'It's a knee injury caused by James Moriarty and his spiky football studs, which are actually banned in most clubs; I'm surprised Kadic allows them.'

Christy turns to me as if noticing me for the first time. 'You are a friend of Ulrich's, correct?'

'Yes. I'm Jérémie Belpois. We share a dorm.'

'And how do you think Ulrich's going to react to not getting on the team?'

'Very badly, considering he's about to try and play with a hole in his knee.'

Christy blinks. 'Pardon?'

'That's right. Ulrich's still going to play.'

'Toya, get a shot of this!' Christy says to the cameraman. 'Ulrich's still going to play! He's either very brave or very, very stupid!'

'Or he's trying to impress a certain someone in the audience,' Toya says, nodding toward Yumi.

Christy looks from Yumi (who's tying the bandage) to Ulrich to the camera and back again. Then her face splits into a grin. 'Oh ho ho,' she says. 'Seems Ulrich's first week at Kadic has been _extremely_ eventful.'

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what's going to be in the gossip column of the _Kadic Gazette _for the next couple of months.

'There,' Yumi says softly, 'finished. Are you absolutely sure?'

Ulrich nods. 'Yes.' He tries to stand up, but just ends up falling. Yumi catches him and holds him steady until he's found his balance.

'Good luck, then,' she whispers, and hugs him.

'Aw,' Christy says, and Toya zooms in on my friends.

Ulrich limps over to the rest of the players and I walk over to Yumi. She's watching Ulrich as if he's heading off to war or something.

'Come on,' I say. 'Let's sit down.'

Yumi nods, but doesn't say anything. She's paler than usual. Oh dear.

We sit down, but Yumi still doesn't really relax. She's shaking so much I'm surprised she doesn't fall off the bench.

Someone pokes her in the back. She turns her head slightly but doesn't take her eyes off the game. Considering what happened last time she did that, it's no surprise she won't stop watching, even _if_ soccer is the most boring thing since cricket.

'What is it?' Yumi asks.

'Why did _you _help him?' Sissi asks, as if by bandaging Ulrich Yumi's caused some terrible insult to Miss Delmas. 'I mean, you're not even that pretty…'

Yumi smiles. 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Now will you please shut up so I can watch the game?'

Sissi closes her mouth and frowns at Yumi, who doesn't notice and cups her chin in her hands, watching the game intently, as if nothing else matters in the entire world. She has quite a talent for making enemies.

'He'll be okay,' I say.

'He better be,' Yumi says earnestly. 'Otherwise James will not be a happy bunny…'

I open my mouth to say something along the lines of violence not being the answer to everything, but give up when I see the look on Yumi's face. When a girl looks like that, there is no arguing with her.

It looks as if Jim's given up arguing with Ulrich too, and has just sent the players into their starting positions, undoubtedly muttering about his job not being worth his meagre pay and how, if Ulrich's parents sue, Jim is not going to be the one paying.

Jim blows his whistle.

I don't know the names of Ulrich's team mates, so I will refer to them as Centre (the guy who starts off in the little circle), Front Left (name explains), Back Right (ditto), Back Left (ditto again) and Goalkeeper, a blonde boy who doesn't really seem to do anything except glare gloomily at the floor and the opposite end of the pitch. Front Right is Ulrich. The same goes for the opposite team, except they'll be Opposite Front Right and so on, except for James, who is Opposite Front Left.

Opposite Centre gets the ball and passes to James, who's run forward and almost barrelled into Ulrich. I don't know why Mister Moriarty is being allowed back in the game after the injury he caused Ulrich, but I also don't know why every atomic bomb isn't just destroyed or launched into space and forgotten about. I don't know why George Bush was re-elected as President of the United States, or why dogs insist on chasing cats up trees, or why humans are on this planet in the first place, but the amount of things I do not know is pretty much the same as the amount of things I do know, and what I do know is that Ulrich has just taken the ball from James and is passing it to Centre, who has passed it to Front Left.

Opposite Front Right runs forward, so Front Left uses a complicated move that passes the ball backwards to Back Left. Back Left runs with the ball for a bit, is tackled by James, falls over, swears, and gets up, looking very annoyed. (But, I may add, not as annoyed as Yumi, who has just muttered a string of obscenities about James's ancestry that are most likely untrue, for they bend all rules of anatomy, but, if they are fact, they do explain a lot).

James tries to score but Goalkeeper has snapped into action and grabs the ball out of the air. He kicks the ball to Centre, who head butts it to Ulrich. Ulrich starts dribbling the ball (I think that's the word… if it isn't, then he just runs with the ball), heading towards the goal.

'Come on, Ulrich,' Yumi whispers.

Ulrich winces as his injured leg is placed on the ground and James takes the opportunity to try and steal the ball. However Ulrich notices the attack and kicks the ball to Front Left.

They're in a white half-circle now, and Front Left has a perfect opportunity to score. However, for some bizarre reason (another thing to add to the list of the things I do not know) he does not take the chance, but instead passes to Ulrich.

In a move that defies the laws of physics Ulrich jumps off his injured leg and twists his body to kick the ball. He lands on his side and swears in pain. Yet his cry is drowned out by a much louder cry from James as the Opposite Goalkeeper misses and lets the ball hit the back of the net.

Jim blows his whistle. 'That's enough. If you've made the team, you will be told.'

(Oh, that's right… this was only the tryouts, wasn't it? I'd forgotten. Seemed a lot more intense).

Front Left's congratulating Ulrich and helps my friend stand up. Ulrich staggers, blinks, and grins at his fellow team member.

I turn to smile at Yumi. 'See?' I begin. 'He's – _Yumi!_'

Yumi isn't sitting next to me. She isn't even near me. She must have started running as soon as Jim blew the whistle, because she's three quarters of the way across the pitch to Ulrich before I've even noticed she's gone.

Trying not to grin in an 'I-told-you-so' manner, I follow.

By the time I reach them Yumi's flung her arms around Ulrich and is hugging him so tightly I'm surprised broken ribs aren't added to his list of injuries. Front Left (note to self: learn his name) waves at me and walks away, where he is ambushed by Christy and her partner in crime.

'Ulrich, you did it!' Yumi crows in an uncharacteristically high voice. 'You genius; suicidal genius, but whatever! James is going to be SO annoyed! Oh, Ulrich, I could _kiss _you right now!'

He doesn't say it, but you can see it written on every single one of Ulrich's features: the words 'why don't you?'

Maybe Yumi gets the message, or maybe she just decides to for her own reasons. At any rate, she puts her hands either side of Ulrich's head and brings his lips up to hers. It's hardly a romantic first kiss – more a sort of attack of the lips – but when Yumi pulls back they're looking at each other as though they've just gotten married, or something.

Until, that is, Yumi grins, laughs, and hugs Ulrich again.

I pat Ulrich on the back. 'Well done,' I say. 'Now your afternoons are going to be filled with the activity the Americans call soccer while Britain and the rest of the world call it football, although technically the correct name for it is soccer-football, although no one actually calls it that.'

'Shut up, Jérémie,' Yumi says brightly. Ulrich's still too dazed to speak; it'll probably several pints of coffee to bring him out of his stupor.

Or a visit from the Kadic King of Chavs.

James walks up to us, three of his friends walking with him. They hardly look forgiving.

'You think you is so tough, don't cha, Ulrich?' James says. 'Jus' because you win this game, you is think–'

'Oh, shut up, James,' Ulrich says. 'Give it a rest, why don't you?'

James's eyes widen in surprise. 'Is you knowin' who you is…?'

'Yes, James, I do know who I am talking to. And frankly, I don't really care. You lost. Deal with it.' He turns to me and Yumi now and puts his arms around the two of us. 'Coming?'

'Where?' I ask.

'My house,' Yumi says suddenly. 'We can have a sort of party to celebrate!' (Celebrate what? Erm... that fact that Ulrich's still alive, maybe?)'Yeah, I think we still have some of the mini-pizzas left… and we have plenty of marshmallows…'

'Marshmallows?' I perk up. 'Then what are we waiting for?'

And James and his gang watch dumbfounded as me and my two friends walk off the pitch and out of the gates, arms around each other, and laughing so much it's a wonder our lungs don't burst.

(However, our happiness does not end there… a week later the names of the Kadic Junior Soccer Team are revealed on a poster outside the gymnasium. We find that Ulrich has been made captain, and that a certain student has been kicked off the team entirely. Life simply cannot get any better.)

_Fini

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_

Thank you to all readers and reviewers; basically, anyone who thought this story was worth reading! I really hope you enjoyed it. Your support really does mean a lot to me, and really, all you guys (and gals) out there really, really made me feel a lot happier. As they say in France: _merci!_ And I hope to hear from you as I continue with more _Code Lyoko _stories!


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